I live for traveling. Honestly, I don’t think I have a choice.
Growing up, every summer my dad would take two weeks off work, load us into the motorhome, and set off across the country. We didn’t do resorts or fly to destinations — we drove. I didn’t always appreciate it at the time, but looking back now, I realize how incredible it was. We covered thousands of miles, from Washington, D.C. to Los Angeles, and everything in between. Those trips planted a seed in me — the love of the open road, of exploring new places, and of collecting moments along the way.
During those long stretches of highway, I’d put on my Walkman, stare out the window, and let my mind wander. Music in my ears, scenery rushing by — it was simple, almost meditative. Today, with so many people flying from point A to point B, I think that kind of reflection on the road is becoming a lost art.
Fast forward a few years, and I found myself planning one of my first big road trips as an adult: my honeymoon with Katie. We were broke college students, so flying somewhere exotic was off the table. A road trip was our adventure of choice, and I wanted to take Katie somewhere meaningful — Yellowstone National Park.
I had visited Yellowstone as a kid, but Katie had never traveled much growing up. I saw this as my chance to spark that same love for travel in her. She told me she enjoyed the outdoors, so naturally I thought, Perfect, let’s camp in the park a couple nights. What I didn’t account for: June nights in Yellowstone are still cold. And I quickly learned something important about my new wife — she does not like being cold. Ever.
Let’s just say she wasn’t exactly thrilled with my “romantic camping idea.” But I’ll admit, I didn’t mind the way she snuggled a little closer in the tent.
One moment from that trip is etched into my memory. I woke up early at our campsite along the Madison River. The air was crisp and biting, my breath visible in the morning light. Everything was still. A few hundred yards away, bison grazed in the wide, flat valley, with mountains rising in the distance. It was silent, serene, and sacred in its simplicity. I was young, newly married, and standing in the middle of nature’s grandeur — and in that moment, I had not a single worry. Life was good.
Those are the moments I live for. Not necessarily the perfect trips or luxury escapes, but the pauses in the journey — the ones that remind me to be grateful, to breathe, and to see the beauty right in front of me.
That said, I’ll be honest with you, I do enjoy the luxury vacations too. There’s something about being pampered, seeing the world in comfort, and experiencing places in a different way. I’ve had those trips as well, and they come with their own kind of stories and lessons.
For me, it isn’t one or the other — it’s both. The rustic road trip that humbles me in nature and the luxury getaway that refreshes me in comfort. Each has its place, and both can shape us if we approach them with intention.
Lesson
Those are the moments I live for. Not necessarily the perfect trips or luxury escapes, but the pauses in the journey — the ones that remind me to be grateful, to breathe, and to see the beauty right in front of me.
That said, I’ll be honest with you, I do enjoy the luxury vacations too. There’s something about being pampered, seeing the world in comfort, and experiencing places in a different way. I’ve had those trips as well, and they come with their own kind of stories and lessons.
For me, it isn’t one or the other — it’s both. The rustic road trip that humbles me in nature and the luxury getaway that refreshes me in comfort. Each has its place, and both can shape us if we approach them with intention.
And that’s the real lesson: you have to be intentional about slowing down enough to notice. It’s so easy to let those moments pass by — to get caught up in the checklist of things that need to be done or to distract yourself by just turning on the music. But if you can pause, even briefly, and choose to be present, you’ll find something deeper.
Be intentional with the conversations you have with the people you’re traveling with. Be intentional with your thoughts as you take in the scenery. Don’t just let the miles slip away unnoticed — use them as an invitation to reflect, connect, and realign.
In upcoming posts, I’ll share both kinds of stories — from roughing it under the stars to traveling in style — and the lessons each has taught me about gratitude, perspective, and living with purpose.
Reflection Questions
- When was the last time you were humbled by being in nature?
- Do you lean more toward rustic or luxury when you travel — and why?
- Who could you take on a road trip (or even just a long drive) to slow down and connect with?
- How do you pause and take in the beauty of the journey, no matter where you are?
Call to Action
This week, try to create your own “road trip moment”:
- Take the long way home. Notice what you see, hear, and feel.
- Plan a simple road trip. It doesn’t have to be far — the point is to stretch the journey.
- Pause in nature. Whether it’s a park, a river, or a field, stop long enough to breathe it in.
And if you’ve had a travel moment that stayed with you — one that made you pause and appreciate life differently — share it with me. I’d love to hear about it.
Leave a Reply